


Buck Cluck’s Just Desserts

by HeadlessGlitch



Category: Chicken Little (2005)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Gore, Graphic Description, i don’t know what I was thinking lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:07:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27955127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeadlessGlitch/pseuds/HeadlessGlitch
Summary: Buck Cluck learns more about who he is on the inside.
Kudos: 4





	Buck Cluck’s Just Desserts

**Author's Note:**

> lmfao

Buck Cluck stood in the hallway after his emo son, Chicken Little, slammed his bedroom door in his face. This was followed by the sound of MCR blasting from behind the door, barely muffling the anguished, emo screaming of Chicken Little.  
Chicken Little had recently undergone his emo phase, where he’d light garbage cans on fire, dye his hair black, wear eyeliner and listen to emo shit like My Chemical Romance. In fact, that was the topic of tonight’s disagreement, and why Buck Cluck currently stood like a fat bastard outside his son's door while the little bastard spawn in question cried like a bitch in his bedroom. He had asked his fuck head father if he could go to the MCR concert, to which Buck refused. This resulted in the situation Buck currently found himself in.  
“Chicken Little!,” he shouted while banging on the door, “Stop being a little bitch about a concert! You can’t go tonight, you have school tomorrow!”  
Chicken Little screamed in response.  
“Fuck you dad, you wouldn’t understand!”  
Buck reached for his belt so he could burst into his son’s room and beat him to within an inch of his life, but he realized he was late for his office job or some shit, I don’t know where he works. I’m not familiar with the deep lore of Chicken Little.  
Anyway Buck got all pissy and walked outside to his car so he could go to work. He was having such a shitty day because his son was being a rat bastard that he didn’t even notice Colonel Sanders sneaking into his house through an open window.  
His car sputtered to life, because it was so shitty just like everything else in Buck’s life, before he managed to throw it in reverse and accidentally run a pedestrian over, killing them instantly.  
“Oh shit!,” he yelled. He looked around nervously, hoping to god that no one saw what had happened, and by some miracle, no one was around to see it. His tires screeched as he floored it away from the scene of the crime, spraying blood and organs all over the road as the pedestrian’s body was jammed under the back tire.  
His pulse raced as he drove as fast as he could down the street without seeming too suspicious. He couldn’t go back to prison again.  
By the grace of god, Buck finally arrived at his work without any more casualties and haphazardly parked his car in two spaces instead of one, like the shit eating whore’s child he is.  
Like usual, Buck entered the building and made his way over to the elevator and waited for it.  
The elevator came to his floor after a minute and he entered only to find it was occupied by a female.  
Buck, being the fucking neckbeard he is who hasn’t touched a woman since his wife died, decided to stare directly at her tits while the elevator ascended to their floor.  
“Nice tits!,” he commented loudly.  
She gave no response, instead nervously scooting a couple feet away from him.  
“I said nice tits!,” he shouted louder. A great boiling fury rose inside of him at this woman’s refusal to thank him for his sexual harassment and he began a loud tirade about females these days.  
“Can’t you bitches these days take a compliment?,” he complained loudly and then the bitch decided to pull a can of pepper spray out of her purse and spray it directly in his eyes.  
Buck Cluck screamed in pain as his eyes stung like they were on fire. Hot tears poured down his cheeks as his vision blurred. The second he heard the chime of the elevator doors opening, he ran out screaming and clawing at his own face, running blindly into passerby’s and furniture alike.  
Unfortunately for him, one of the windows was open and Buck, in his panicked, blinded daze, ran through it and fell five stories onto the pavement below. The last thing he heard was a voice resonate from above him.  
“Finger lickin good,” the voice said before Buck’s world went black. 

Buck Cluck slowly opened his eyes after being unconscious for an unknown amount of time. He expected his eyes to sting after the whole pepper spray incident, but luckily for him, the pain had stopped. While his eyes adjusted, he listened to the sounds of machinery beeping and the low quiet buzz of the ceiling light. He suddenly found himself to be in a hospital.  
The bright fluorescent light above him illuminated the small, curtained off room he was in as the constant beeping of the IV pump he was hooked up to kept the room from being totally silent. Buck tried to get up to look around for a nurse or anyone who knew what had happened, but to his horror, he discovered that he couldn’t move from the neck down.  
“Oh god!,” he yelled in a panic, “Hello? Someone? Nurse? Anyone?”  
The only response he got was the steady, rhythmic beeping of the IV pump. Buck’s heart filled his fresh panic until he heard the sound of footsteps outside his curtained off room.  
“Oh thank god,” he muttered. Hopefully it was a doctor or something.  
The curtain shuffled as it was pulled back.  
But it was no doctor.  
Colonel Sanders stood in the threshold of Buck’s little room, staring him down silently.  
Hungrily.  
“Who the fuck are you?,” Buck tried to conceal the nervousness in his voice but failed as his yell came out as a frantic whimper.  
The Colonel didn’t answer. Instead he walked to the foot of the bed before producing the mutilated remains of Chicken Little from under his suit.  
Buck gasped in horror but not pity or sadness, as he kinda hated his son since he was a little bitch. Chicken Little’s now featherless body was dropped limply on Buck’s lap, his head lolling to the side to reveal his beak had been shaved off and his eyes removed, leaving three bloody gaping holes in their place. His mangled vocal chords hung out of the hole like string.  
Buck quickly discovered his son was still breathing as he could hear the faint sounds of air being drawn in and out of his ravaged beak hole.  
Nauseated by the sight, Buck threw up all over himself and his son’s almost-dead body and began to scream in terror as Colonel Sander’s produced a still-bloody knife from his pocket.  
“Finger lickin good,” he said, smiling at the screaming chicken man before him. Buck could now do nothing but scream as he watched the Colonel grab Chicken Little's body away from him and tear a huge chunk out of its side with his teeth. Blood splattered down his once white coat and onto the sheets that covered Buck’s paralyzed torso.  
The Colonel continued to slowly eat Chicken Little’s now probably dead body as he maintained full eye contact with Buck, who screamed mindlessly at what was transpiring before him.  
After what seemed like hours, Colonel Sanders finished eating Chicken Little’s destroyed carcass, leaving nothing more than his skeleton left. He tossed the bones carelessly onto the floor, which landed with a soft clatter.  
The Colonel starred at Buck, who had gone quiet momentarily.  
“Finger lickin good,” he said quietly.  
There was a pause before Colonel Sanders flashed Buck a bloodstained smile before lunging at him like a feral animal.  
Buck’s terrorized screeching resumed at full volume as the Colonel stabbed the knife into his fat lard sack man tit.  
The Colonel laughed maniacally as blood sprayed into both of their faces like a fountain. He then grabbed a fist full of Buck’s feathers and forcefully yanked them out, tearing out bits of skin with them, exposing the skin underneath.  
“FINGER LICKIN GOOD!,” The Colonel screamed as Buck’s screeching became so loud, blood flew out of his mouth.  
Like a starved fucking hyena, the Colonel sank his teeth into the exposed flesh and tore a large strip of tissue out of his body.  
The knife found its way underneath Buck’s rib cage, cutting a large slit across his stomach, revealing the chicken man’s digestive system.  
Unhinging his jaw as his eyes rolled back into his head, the Colonel lifted up the flap of skin and slid his head inside the large cut.  
Buck screamed as he could feel his intestines being slurped on like spaghetti.  
Once his intestines were gone, the Colonel crawled further up his body so that his head was right below his breastplate.  
Buck’s screaming stopped as he now struggled to take in any air at all. A steady stream of blood poured out of his beak as he drew in strained ragged breaths while the Colonel grabbed both of his lungs and squeezed all the tar from thirty years of chain smoking out all over his destroyed insides.  
An immense amount of pain shot through his chest as the Colonel took a huge bit out of his still beating heart, tearing it away from the arteries as he did so. Blood pooled out from inside the cavity the Colonel had cut and all over the floor below the bed.  
Buck could feel his life fading away as his mind went numb from the trauma he had endured.  
In his final moments, he could feel the Colonel struggling to break free from inside his chest cavity.  
With some effort, Colonel Sanders shattered Buck’s breastplate with a loud crack, and tore through the skin on Buck’s chest, bursting out of his body like a xenomorph.  
Blood and bits of flesh coated the hospital’s walls and the floor below, until the once sterile white room was a deep shade of crimson.  
Buck Cluck was no more as he had finally died.  
Admiring his handiwork, Colonel Sanders smiled before turning to the camera.  
“Finger lickin good,” he smiled merrily, winking through the screen at the horrified new KFC employees who were forced to watch the weird training vhs tape their boss put on for them.


End file.
